


Parallel

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M, SDR2 Spoilers, post-sdr2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:19:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After spending a year in a coma, Nagito Komaeda wakes up to a completely different world. Filled with shame and self-loathing, the only person who seems to be able to put up with him is also, coincidentally, the person who's changed the most—Hajime Hinata.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parallel

The evening had been cold and windy, with an air of fear and overwhelming paranoia from all ends of the island. Crowded together at dinner, each of them sent wary glances to each other, wondering who would make the next strike. Komaeda was among them, albeit sitting at the end of the table, spooning corn into his mouth. He was only looking at one person, though. A handsome boy named Hajime Hinata, who would likely be the only person to care about Komaeda himself, rather than Komaeda’s plan, after it was executed.

And maybe even that was wishful thinking.

His elbow touched Kuzuryuu’s and the other boy moved away as if he was shocked, turning to Komaeda with his eyes narrowed and his lips curled into an angry sneer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Don't fucking touch me!”

It seemed as though, despite Kuzuryuu’s supposed attempt to be kinder, the sentiment didn’t extend to Komaeda. He excused himself and drifted away from the table and past the ticking bomb to the beach. The stars were in the dozens that day, all over the night sky, twinkling down at Komaeda. They comforted him but shamed him as well.

There were lots of things to prepare but thankfully, most of it was already in place. He recounted the steps of his plan, over and over until it was so ingrained in his mind, he found himself mumbling it while walking around.

By the time he got to the room, the sky was as dark as smoke and rain was pattering against the windows. The bad luck now, the good luck later, he hoped.

After cutting himself with a pocket knife, he peeled the rope apart and tied himself into place so he couldn’t escape. He was weak and weakness caused him to be frightened. There was no way he was going to allow himself to fail because of his pettiness. Then, he turned on the gas and waited.

As the air in the room grew heavier, he felt his throat constrict and his hands begin to shake. Willing himself not to scream or cry, he stared blankly at the ceiling, counting the bumps on the tiles. One, two, three. Searing pain stabbed his leg and he sobbed wordlessly against the bandage covering his mouth. He couldn’t even get past three.

Light-headed, he barely registered the presence of someone else in the room. A man, his face obscured by his dark hair, kneeled down beside him and brushed his finger over Komaeda’s cheek.

Surprised, he leaned into the touch as best as he could, not unwelcomingly.

Was this real? He thought. To have this person end his plan just now… that would definitely be bad luck. It didn’t register to him that while the poison was tearing away at his throat, the man wasn’t affected.

But instead of ripping him from his binds, he only rubbed Komaeda’s cheek. Komaeda looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of his face from beneath his fringe. His vision was obscured by spots of black and the rest was blurry and he was unable to see.

Barely, he heard a voice.

“You’re afraid,” the man told him. His voice was soothing.

I know you, Komaeda thought, trying to move closer to him. Who are you?

The man reached up and pulled down Komaeda’s hood, running his fingers through his hair gently. “I know you are, because I understand.”  

Komaeda gasped again as the poison starting to burn his body. It hurt, like a thousand knives tearing through his skin at once, as if he was submerged into fire and then thrown into a pit of sharp ice. And, most of all, he was scared.

Was this right? It hurt. It hurt, and he could be dying for nothing if it didn’t work. All of this—for nothing.

He couldn’t see very well anymore, but he knew the man was there when he grabbed Komaeda’s hand and pressed their palms together.

Writhing, tears streaming down his cheeks and his chest heaving, the last thing he saw was the man’s lips descending upon him and the last thing he felt was a kiss to his forehead.

* * *

 

That was when Hinata woke up on the beach. His hand immediately reached for his pounding chest and he looked around. He must’ve fainted or fell asleep, although he couldn’t remember. His head hurt and his body felt odd and winded, as if he had run for miles.

Hinata picked his way through the beach and through the island back to his cabin, grabbing onto various objects on the way to hold his balance against his sudden dizziness.

“What the hell—…” Hinata muttered to himself.

He opened the door to his cabin and collapsed against the wall, rubbing his forehead with his palm and groaning. Was he sick or something? Was it even possible to get sick here? He thought of Pekoyama at the party. He hadn’t eaten any odd food, though, and this was far beyond any regular flu.

Hinata tore his eyes away from the floor to glance around his room. Nothing was different than earlier, so he obviously wasn’t drugged.

At that thought, his heart stopped for a moment. Did someone poison him? No, that couldn’t be it. Unless it was…

He banished the idea from his mind, not wanting to think about Komaeda just yet.

Giving a noiseless grunt of pain as he stood up, he steadied himself with a hand on his knee. When he got to the bathroom, he found himself in awe of his reflection.

For a moment, he swore his eyes were the same colour of blood. But by the time he had been able to focus, it was gone.

“I need rest,” Hinata said to himself, sighing. Stress was going to kill him, most likely. No one else would have to do it.

As he went to lie in bed, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling of sickness and despair from his gut.

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey HEY.... so this fic is kind of based off of a conversation i had with [my friend alice](http://hajimehinata.tumblr.com/) yeah!!!! im not sure about how long itll be but i was thinking maybe mmm 3 parts or so and ill probably write most of it within the next few weeks because all the ideas are in my head right now
> 
> also kamukura and hinata ARE the same person in this fic but yeah both tags are there for a reason i suppose


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